


An Overwhelming Tide

by wanderingscholarlad



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Andy - Mentioned, Booker - Mentioned, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Melancholy Mornings, Nile - Mentioned, Processing their grief post Merrick, Quynh - Mentioned, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, low key neurodivergent Nicky, supportive husbands, the thesis of my fics is be gentle, the thesis of the old guard is be kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26605393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingscholarlad/pseuds/wanderingscholarlad
Summary: They’ve all been so tired lately. Everything is just a lot, between Andy’s mortality coming and going with seemingly no explanation, Booker and Quynh being back in their lives, and Nile adapting to being a part of their odd little family. They’ve been busy, sure, taking jobs here and there and travelling the world to reintroduce Quynh to it and to show Nile their favourite places. They haven’t been busy enough to justify how tired Nicky has felt the past few weeks.-Sometimes grief is a nonlinear process and you have to linger in bed a while.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 17
Kudos: 265





	An Overwhelming Tide

They’ve all been so tired lately. Everything is just a lot, between Andy’s mortality coming and going with seemingly no explanation, Booker and Quynh being back in their lives, and Nile adapting to being a part of their odd little family. They’ve been busy, sure, taking jobs here and there and travelling the world to reintroduce Quynh to it and to show Nile their favourite places. They haven’t been busy enough to justify how tired Nicky has felt the past few weeks. 

Joe always rises earlier than Nicky when he can. He takes care to observe salat al-fajr when he can, not as often as he’d like with their chaotic lifestyle but enough that Nicky doesn’t worry when he wakes up to an empty bed, the space next to him still warm in the shape of Joe’s body. Their bed is empty when Nicky first stirs, and he rolls over onto his stomach instead of lying on his side, curling his arms under his pillow and snuggling back down. He usually sprawls out when he has the whole bed to himself, letting the weight of the blanket over his back mimic the comforting weight of Joe pressed against him. It’s not noisy yet, Joe’s likely praying outside if the weather is good and the rest of the house is still asleep. Nicky can sleep a while longer.

He drifts in and out of consciousness, never sleeps as soundly without Joe there. The sound of the others waking up starts to filter into the edges of his awareness but he stubbornly keeps his face buried in the pillow. He doesn’t want to face the day just yet.

The bed dips next to him and he sighs minutely, he’ll have to get up now. Joe is there and he can’t deny Joe anything, has never been able to. Joe curls a hand around Nicky’s waist, pressing into the curve and leans down, murmuring against his shoulders. They’re soft words, and Nicky faintly processes them as poetry Joe wrote him, back when everything was new. A love letter to the constellations that marked Nicky's shoulders, to the freckles and moles he’d always seen as somehow desecrating the clean expanse of his skin. Joe adores them though, and with time, Nicky has come to see what Joe sees when he traces the patterns on Nicky’s back. Now, each mole is a reminder of a place Joe has kissed him.

Nicky blinks slowly against the pillow, can’t bring himself to fight waking up now, not when it’s this sweet. Joe presses a kiss to his spine, placed perfectly between Nicky's shoulder blades and when Nicky doesn’t stir, bites gently, teasing. He knows Nicky is awake, knows intimately what Nicky looks like in waking and in sleep.

“My Nicolò, do you not want to face the day?” Joe murmurs when even playful biting doesn’t have Nicky turning over for affection the way it usually would. Nicky balls his hands in the pillow, doesn’t know how to explain the ache in his chest and the lingering tiredness even after a full night's rest. This has been building for a few weeks now and he’s recognised it but been unable to articulate it. Now though, the small pull has become an overwhelming tide and he’s been swept out to sea. He’s exhausted.

Joe presses his forehead against the nape of Nicky's neck and waits. Nicky sometimes needs a while to turn his thoughts into words but it’s alright, Joe can be endlessly patient with him. They have had several lifetimes together after all, what is a few moments of waiting for Nicky to gather his thoughts. 

He can’t work out how to explain this though, too far out to sea to stand on steady ground, so instead he turns in the circle of Joe’s arms, presses his forehead to Joe’s shoulder and waits. 

“I can bring you coffee in bed, amore mio?” Joe murmurs, a hand sliding between Nicky and the mattress to press into the curve of Nicky’s spine and hold him. Even if Nicky can’t explain what he’s feeling, he’s still right there and present and that’s enough to comfort Joe. Nothing can be too wrong if they’re together. Nothing can be too wrong when they’re in each other’s arms at home and safe. 

Nicky nods, needs a while longer before he’s ready to get up and face the others. Coffee in bed sounds blissful. 

Joe kisses along Nicky’s cheek for a moment, and Nicky turns his face to steal a proper kiss before Joe gets up. They press their foreheads together and share an intimate smile. Then and only then, does Joe stand up, Nicky trying to convince himself not to cling on more than a moment longer. Joe is just getting coffee. He’s going to be right there still, he isn’t even leaving the house. 

Nicky stays lying on his back this time, tracing the patterns on the ceiling and trying to find where his voice has gone for the day. It’s not exactly necessary, if he can’t talk, he can’t talk. He wants to be able to reassure Joe that everything will be fine though - that he’ll be fine, he’s just a little melancholy today.

Nicky knows that he’d put processing everything that they’ve been through in the past year on hold until they had time and safety enough to manage it but now he’s upset far past anyone else and feels a twist of guilt for it. 

Everyone else is okay with Booker being back and Nicky knows he should be too. Even so part of him races at the thought of Joe being out of sight whenever they’re in different rooms for more than a few moments and the other half of him just feels weighed down by the depth of Booker’s pain, and their inability to help. He can’t help feeling guilty, he wishes he didn’t, knows they did their best to love Booker, but somehow it wasn’t enough. Nicky feels like his love has been found wanting in some way. It’s compounded by the guilt he feels about having left Quynh for so long. They’re all healing slowly, but it’s a frustratingly nonlinear process. Most days are okay, most days he just gravitates a little closer to Joe than usual but can laugh with Nile or braid Quynh’s hair without feeling heavy with grief. He doesn’t quite understand why he feels like he’s grieving, he hasn’t lost anyone. His whole family is together again, he should feel joy. He doesn’t though, and he hates himself for it, just a little,

Then there are days like today, where he wakes up feeling heavy and silent. This sort of day is harder to navigate. Sometimes seeing Joe in the morning is enough to banish the grey feeling. Sometimes the feeling will fade once he’s had coffee and something to eat. Sometimes it lingers until well into the evening. Sometimes he just stays in bed.

Joe is back before long though, before Nicky has enough time to get properly frustrated with himself about how he feels. Nicky pushes himself upright and shrugs on a soft hoodie that he’d dropped on the floor last night, much to Joe’s frustration.

“You are a mess, Nicolò. Everywhere we go, I find your hoodies on the floor, your socks on my armchair.”

“But my heart in your hands too,” Nicky had replied with a small smile, and as he knew it would be, it had been enough for Joe to forget the hoodie and climb into bed, kissing him with a sigh.

“You can’t win every argument like this, my heart.”

“But it works so well.”

Nicky smiles a little at the memory and at the feel of the hoodie settling across his shoulders. The soft fabric and the steady weight of it mimic being held and it helps some of the heaviness ease off. He’s managed a smile, and that’s a good sign at least. 

Joe has brought both of their coffees with him and puts them on the bedside table as he settles next to Nicky, passing over Nicky’s mug once they’re comfortably arranged.

The first sip is always blissful. Coffee somehow manages to make Nicky sleepy, much to Andy’s amusement so he only drinks it black before bed. In the mornings, she’s horrified by the sheer amount of milk and sugar he takes it with. Joe’s made it perfectly, as always, and Nicky lets the sweet warmth fill him from the inside out.

They sit in bed, pressed together and drink in silence, Joe content to wait for Nicky to be ready to talk, or not talk, and Nicky focused on the warmth of the mug between his hands, the soft weight of his hoodie and the comforting press of Joe against his side. He’s grounding himself slowly, getting ready to try and explain how he’s feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he says eventually. 

“What for?”

“I’m being difficult.”

“Difficult? Oh my love, no,” Joe frowns and sets aside his mug, cupping Nicky's face in his hands, “Why do you say difficult?”

“I feel like I’m being overly stubborn,” Nicky admits. He can’t look at Joe directly right now.

“You’re grieving, it’s not a linear process. Do you fault me when I get upset?” That word again. Grief. Nicky doesn’t quite get why everyone is calling it grief. He hasn’t  _ lost  _ anyone.

“Never. I would never,” Nicky says it forcefully, affronted even at the suggestion and then looks embarrassed. He’s realised his own hypocrisy, “ _ oh _ .”

“Yes, oh.”

Nicky leans his head on Joe’s shoulder, turning it to press a kiss to the exposed skin there. 

“I’ve been a fool,” he murmurs, “but I don't understand why it feels like grief. We haven’t lost anyone? We got Quynh back, Booker was only gone for a year, Andy is fine and Nile is here.” 

Nicky frowns at the print on his mug, the little creature on it looks so joyful and for a moment it feels like even the porcelain knows more than he does. 

“I wish I had all the answers, but I don’t,” Joe admits.

Nicky sighs and leans his head against Joe’s shoulder, “It’s frustrating, but it isn’t your fault.”

“I think it feels like grief because you’ve lost the way things were, and you haven’t yet adjusted to how things are now.” It feels, sometimes, like Joe knows Nicky better than he knows himself. He does get frustrated when the world changes on him, likes his particular routines and rulesets.

He hums at that, not quite sure what to say in response. 

“It’s alright though, you understand that? You’re allowed to take your time to adjust and process.”

“I know that I’m allowed to be sad. It just gets overwhelming sometimes.”

“I know. But I’ll bring you coffee, and you’ll do the work of getting better, and that’s enough. You’re always enough.”

Nicky smiles at that, knows his love is never a question for Joe, it’s as steady as the earth underfoot. The tide is slowly coming back in and Nicky thinks if he tried, he’d be able to stand on the ocean floor and keep his head above the water. He’s not on solid ground yet, but that’s alright too.

Nicky takes another big sip of coffee, “Shall we go sit in the garden, to finish our coffee? The sun looks nice this morning.”

“It’s a lovely day,” Joe agrees and stands up, reaching a hand out to take Nicky’s. This time, when Joe leaves the room, Nicky goes with him. They wave a little at the others as they pass the kitchen, headed out to sit on the bench in the back garden, together and safe. It’s all Nicky can ask for and as he lets the sun warm him, he feels the last dregs of heaviness ease off.


End file.
